what was that? is that all there is? who is this? this is it.

It came from the grassy knoll. Teletubby Hill. Cal Anderson crows prefer Dick’s cheeseburgers but they’ll settle for worms. Not a cloud in the Willie Nelson blue skies. Rose colored glasses outlook. Look out.  Ideal perfect weather. But still there’s some unidentified emotion, barely perceptible uneasiness, a visceral gut feeling. Like the tuna fish the babysitter used to make. It was never as good as mom’s. And I don’t know why. Flat. Not Minneapolis flat but last night’s Big Bear flat. I’m Temple Grandin listening to someone tell me this is beautiful so I half-ass nod and say uhh sure. Sure. I’m looking at the same thing you are but it doesn’t look the same. This aint my first September in the saddle. Getting a little long in the eyebrow. These aren’t the salad days they’re the sauerkraut days.

it's the same on the weekends as the rest of the days

5 Comments

I'm trying to drink away the part of the day I just cant sew away.

theres no drinking in my dog park, well mr. there's drinking in my dog park and this ain't yours

with those toasters i want mine a TUNA MELT! my first baby sitter- in a game of 'mother may i'- i had her bear crawl so i could look down her her shirt her tits were huge and i was small age 7

I bet your mom's bear crawl was never as good as the babysitter's.

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